


In the Darkness I Search for You

by dhwty_writes



Series: Geraskier One-Shots [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Tumblr Prompt, they are Softe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: "You were shouting," a deep voice beside him said and before he could stop himself, he flinched. "I, uh- I tried to wake you up."'Geralt,' he realised with relief and relaxed. Geralt, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from his body. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark — it had to be the dead of night, still — and he saw that the witcher had one hand outstretched and was still talking and-"I'm sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought-" He moved to pull away, over to his own bedroll on the other side of the fire and panic welled up inside Jaskier again."Wait!" His hand shot out, grasping his wrist firmly. "Wait," he said weakly.Jaskier has a nightmare and Geralt comforts him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931821
Comments: 28
Kudos: 203





	In the Darkness I Search for You

**Author's Note:**

> spielzeugkaiser asked: Oh, I just read your vacation is a mess, I'm so sorry!! How about 6 (maybe with Jaskier?), I'm always down for 11, 27 is... oh yeah, 34 is pure chaos and I love it, 39 makes me!!!, 43 with sickness?  
> This is the first of... a few of these.  
> 6 - Jolting awake after a nightmare and being comforted

The man laid on his back, writhing in pain as an immortal warrior stood above him, her hands outstretched to deal the killing blow. "No," he begged, "no, please don't, please, mercy-"

Thick fog engulfed him, choking the air from his lungs, making him cough and wheeze, forgotten on a table with the faint scent of apple juice.

"Mercy?" a cruel man's voice mocked. "Who are you to deserve mercy? You're no son of mine."

"No," he pleaded again, "no, father, please. Please don't do this, you don't have to, you-"

"You are not worthy of my name, boy," he hissed. "You don't even remember it."

A boot hit him in his broken ribs but he barely registered it, the sharp ache of panic taking over. His name? What was his name? He had a name, he knew for sure, a proud name, and ancient, but he couldn't quite recall it. The air was growing thin. There was another name, too, a different name, a name he chose himself, free of all the duties and nightmares, a name to bring warmth and light and lo-

" _ Jaskier! _ "

Jaskier woke with a start, looking around frantically. "Wha-what?" he stammered, quickly taking stock of his surroundings. He was drenched in sweat, so much that for a moment he feared he wet his pants, and wouldn't  _ that _ be embarrassing? "What's happening?" he tried again.

"You were shouting," a deep voice beside him said and before he could stop himself, he flinched. "I, uh- I tried to wake you up."

'Geralt,' he realised with relief and relaxed. Geralt, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from his body. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark — it had to be the dead of night, still — and he saw that the witcher had one hand outstretched and was still talking and-

"I'm sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought-" He moved to pull away, over to his own bedroll on the other side of the fire and panic welled up inside Jaskier again.

"Wait!" His hand shot out, grasping his wrist firmly. "Wait," he said weakly.

"You're scared," the witcher assessed.

"Yes."

Geralt winced.

It took Jaskier an embarrassingly long time to catch up with what was happening. "Not of you, you big oaf," he said softly. "I had a nightmare."

"Oh," the witcher said slowly. He seemed to hesitate before continuing: "Is there something I could do?"

A blush crept up his cheeks faster than he cared to admit. He quickly shook his head.

"You're embarrassed," Geralt noted.

"That's correct, too."

"So, there  _ is _ something."

He chewed on his lip unsure. He imagined the blush on his cheeks grew brighter still, impossibly visible for Geralt to see. 'Melitele have mercy,' he thought.

" _ Jaskier _ ," Geralt said imploringly. "I can still smell your fear. I can still see your embarrassment." He scooted closer and when Jaskier made no move to pull away he came closer still. "I've seen you drunk out of your mind, held you upright while you puked. I saw you stumble off a stage more times than I can count and caught you in someone's bed more times than  _ you _ can count." He paused. "There's nothing you could ask for that you need to be embarrassed of."

"Nothing, huh?" Jaskier tried to tease, yet the suggestive smile that normally accompanied such a question didn’t quite rise to his lips.

"Nothing," Geralt confirmed seriously.

To his never-ending astonishment he managed to blush even more. 'No mercy for me then,' he decided. "You could, ah- You could hold me? Maybe?"

"Hmm," he said and for one terrifying moment Jaskier feared that the witcher would decline, regardless of the promise he'd made. Then: "Move over," he grumbled, "won't be sleeping on wet leaves because of this."

"O-okay." Relief rushed over him, the gruff tone much more like their usual conversations. 'When did this start to feel comforting?' he asked himself and quickly decided that it didn't really matter.

What mattered was that he moved over just like Geralt had asked him to and that he was pulled tightly against the witcher's chest, arms like iron bars, but not trapping him, never trapping him, instead keeping out whatever might cause harm. He realised very belatedly — after a few moments of struggling to fit into the bedroll together — that Geralt intended to  _ sleep _ like that.

'Now, that's unusual,' he thought. 'Not that I'd complain, though.' It had been far too long since he fell asleep in a lover's embrace. 'Huh.' And wasn't  _ that _ a strange thought?

'That's a dangerous thought,' he decreed. ''Cause we're  _ not _ lovers. Never have been, never will be.' Not that he hadn't thought about it, that wasn't the issue at all. It was more that he had thought about it  _ too much _ , and that Geralt had never made any indication, and that this, the witcher curled up around him was too close to forbidden fantasies, hidden from view for anyone but-

"Bard," Geralt grumbled, "you're thinking very loudly."

"Huh?" Jaskier made, ice cold fear gripping his heart. "What do you mean, thinking loudly? I'm not thinking loudly, I'm thinking very quietly, in fact, in the privacy of my own mind, so it would be appreciated if you kept your nose out of tha-"

"Jaskier," he sighed and buried his nose in his hair. Jaskier's heart skipped a beat. "Relax. You’re not relaxing. So. What're you thinking about?"

"I, uh- nightmare," he blurted before he could say anything more incriminating.

"Hmm." Geralt began tracing soothing patterns on Jaskier's arm. "Do you, uh- want to talk about it?" For a moment he wondered if this made the witcher feel just as fuzzy in the head as it made him.

"No, I don't think so." He sighed at the sensation of gentle, oh-so-gently fingers in his hair. After a moment of hesitation his resolve shattered and he leaned closer into the touch. "Pity your silver sword can't slay those monsters."

"Hmm." He thought he could feel lips ghosting over his hair. No, that had to be a mistake, surely. "Maybe your silver tongue can."

Jaskier's eyes shot open and he would've sat up if not for the unrelenting arms holding him down. Instead, he opened and closed his mouth uselessly. "Geralt, you- what-"

No, Geralt's lips were definitely pressed against his hair, he could _ feel _ the smirk, the  _ bastard _ . "Speechless, bard?"

"Never!" he replied hastily, desperately trying to think of an answer to prove his point. He wasn't very successful. "You just caught me off guard," he tried.

"Hmm." He was very smug, the  _ asshat _ . "Will try to warn you next time."

"Oh no. No, no, no," he babbled. He could do that very well. Babbling. At least that way he could  _ try _ to save his face. "I won't be caught off guard ever again, thank you very much. Not now that I know that you are capable of such poetic lines."

"Hmm. We'll see about that," Geralt didn't sound any more convinced than Jaskier felt. The witcher tugged him closer against his chest. "Try to sleep now, Jaskier. There's still a few hours before dawn."

He knew that the witcher was right. Come sunrise they would set out again, in search of another contract, another adventure with monsters for Geralt to kill, and ballads for Jaskier to write. So, he tried to relax in his friend's arms, to the rhythm of deep breaths rustling his hair and soft circles drawn on his skin. It wasn't very hard.

He was almost asleep when Geralt moved one last time. This time there was no mistaking the soft kiss pressed to his cheek, nor the softer words that followed: "You're safe with me. Now, always, forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you liked it, leave a comment or come send me more prompts on my [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/).


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